“Katie? Easy, take it easy.”
A sob tore from her throat as she looked up into Taylor’s shadowed face. With a strangled sound she realized, finally, that this wasn’t her assailant. Taylor! It was Taylor. She threw her arms around him, burying her head beneath his jaw.
“Taylor,” she cried out, her voice muffled.
Worried, he held her, rocked her in his arms. She was trembling. “Just a bad dream, princess,” he soothed, kissing her tangled hair. “Nothing more. You’re all right. You’re safe.”
She allowed his voice to drive away the terror coursing through her, the vision of the grinning arsonist slowly dissolving. Only when Taylor eased her away and began drying her cheeks did Katie realize she was crying.
“I—I’m sorry,” she gulped and looked over at the night-stand. The clock told her it was two in the morning.
“Shh, nothing to apologize for.” Taylor studied her with a frightening intensity. Katie’s eyes were wide with shock, her pupils huge and black. In the moonlight, her skin looked taut and pale. “That was some dream….”
Katie wrapped her arms protectively around herself. “I usually have such lovely dreams, Taylor. Sometimes there’s tension, but—never nightmares like this,” she quavered. “It was so real….”
He caressed her hair, wanting to soothe her. “Tell me about it.”
“I dreamed I was in my bookstore. A rock came through the window. Next came a bottle with a flaming rag. I ran to the back of the store as it exploded into flames.” She took in an unsteady breath, risking a glance at him. “It was the man who calls me on the phone, Taylor. He came through a wall of flames to get me. He had an evil smile. Oh, Taylor. Am I losing my mind?”
Taking her into his arms, Taylor held her tightly. “Listen to me. The last couple of days have put one hell of a strain on you. That nightmare was nothing more than a reflection of your fear.”
Stubbornly, Katie shook her head, needing Taylor’s warmth. “No.”
“What?”
She shut her eyes tightly. “Sometimes I get premonitions,” she blurted. “I had one the night before my parents died. I called and told them not to come.” Her voice grew bleak. “They didn’t listen….”
With an effort, Taylor kept his thoughts to himself. Katie was worn out. She needed time away from all this, time in which to pull herself together. He pushed her gently toward the center of the bed. “Okay, princess. Move over.”
Katie was too shaken to realize what Taylor was doing until he slipped into her bed beside her. He pulled her into his arms.
“Now,” he told her, his voice low and husky, “I want you to close your eyes and go back to sleep. You won’t have any more nightmares, Katie. I’ll keep them away.”
Battered by the emotions slowly ebbing within her, Katie acquiesced. She turned to Taylor, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder, her small hand caught in the dark mat of hair on his chest. He was her knight. He would protect her. Gratitude overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered, her words slurred with exhaustion.
“I know you are, Katie. Sleep…. I’ll be here if you need me. I promise.”
Taylor lay awake for a long time. Katie’s first scream had pulled him bolt upright on the creaky settee. Her second scream had sent him stumbling through the living room. He had thought she was being attacked by an in truder. He stared up at the gauzy drapes suspended over the bed; the moonlight cast a muted radiance about the room. He found Katie wrapped in a tangle of sheets, her face frozen in fear. It was then he realized she was only having a nightmare.
Disturbed now by her nearness, Taylor tried to concentrate on anything but her pliant form pressed against him. Her breasts were soft and so was her breathing. She was fast asleep. Absently, Taylor caressed her shoulder, savoring the feel of the silk robe against her flesh. The lilac scent that was so much a part of Katie surrounded him, and an ache grew in his lower body. Shutting his eyes tightly, Taylor fought back his burgeoning need. He should have tucked her in and gone back to the living room. But his need for her was too strong; he couldn’t make himself leave her. Taylor Grant, he thought bitterly, was always in control of everything in his life. Including his sex drive—which had now, inexplicably, gone out of control. Not to mention his heart…
Katie. It was Katie’s fault. She was a witch. No, it was his own fault. For opening himself to her—for responding to her honesty, her delicious warmth…Taylor wrestled with himself for nearly an hour, trying to forget Katie was nestled in the crook of his arm, that she trusted him. Hell, she’d be better off in a cage with a hungry tiger. It was only with supreme effort that Taylor finally placed a check on his starving need to make love to the woman who slept softly against him….
Now, instead, he searched his mind for ways to ease the pressures that were closing in on her, disturbing her sleep. He ran their conversations back through his mind, gathering the facts. Finally, at four in the morning, he had settled on a plan. Satisfied, Taylor’s lids drooped, and he turned on his side, drawing his princess deep into his embrace and sleeping soundly for the first time in days.
Katie was awakened by the muted sound of someone whistling. She wrinkled her nose, stretched and felt the sunlight pouring through the windows behind her bed. Happiness, emanating from some unknown source, surged through her as she opened her eyes to drink in the radiance of the sun. And then her expression clouded with memories of the night before. Her premonition…and then Taylor had come in and held her…
Katie sat up quickly, her hair in a tangled disarray around her face. Taylor had slept in her bed last night! A whirl of disparate emotions danced through her, and she tried to assimilate them all.
“Good morning.”
Pleasure reverberated through Katie as she looked up. Taylor leaned casually against the open door, and he took her breath away. He was clean-shaven, his gray eyes clear with an unspoken warmth, and a smile lingered on his well-shaped mouth. A quiver of desire darted through her. Had something happened last night—something she couldn’t recall? Was that why he seemed so intimate this morning? She lifted her fingers to her brow, trying to will her memory of last night back into her drowsy mind.
Taylor straightened, frowning. “Do you have a headache, Katie?”
“No.” She managed a feeble smile. “I was just trying to remember what happened last night.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Nothing to worry about,” he reassured her.
The tub! Katie’s eyes widened. “I fell asleep in the tub last night!”
Taylor tried very hard not to smile and almost succeeded. “Yeah, you did.”
With a groan, Katie covered her face. “I always fall asleep in there! I forgot to warn you about that.”
He crossed his arms. “Well, after forty-five minutes I got worried, Katie. Sorry….” Liar! he thought. He wasn’t sorry at all.
“Wasn’t much to it,” he went on in a businesslike fashion, “I just dried you off, put you in your robe and carried you to bed.” And then his voice grew gentler. “You were exhausted last night. You only woke up once. You had a bad dream, sweetheart. I came in to see that you were all right. That was all.”
She raised her eyes, utterly mortified, but had the good grace to accept his explanation. “You won’t put that in your exclusive, will you?”
Soberly, Taylor shook his head. He sauntered up to her, the desire to sift his fingers through that ebony hair excruciating. Katie looked drowsy, inviting and so much a woman, wrapped in her silk robe. “What we do in our personal life is none of anyone’s business,” he promised somberly.
“Spoken like a true Scorpio.” Suddenly, Katie was glad he was born under that sign. “Scorpios value privacy above all else.”
Taylor smiled down at her. “I think Sagittarian’s must, too.” He reached out to brush his knuckles lightly against her flaming cheek.
Katie closed her eyes, overwhelmed. “I owe you,” she said, meeting his dove-gray
gaze. “I remember that nightmare. And how you held me afterward…Thank you…”
Taylor hunched down, his hand resting on the edge of the mattress. “I’m glad it happened, Katie. It showed me something.”
“What?”
“How tired you are. How much you need a rest.”
Her eyes glimmered with tenderness. “I thought you were going to make fun of me.”
“Never. Anyway, once you’re up and dressed, we’ll take the day off. I called Maud and she agreed to watch the store today so that I can steal you away and let you recuperate.” He smiled recklessly. He had her, for once! “And I’ve managed to put together a picnic basket, found a blanket and all I need is you. What do you say?”
Katie sat openmouthed for a moment. “Why—I think it’s a wonderful idea!”
He stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his beige chino pants. “I knew you’d see it my way,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.
With a laugh of delight, Katie threw off the covers. The robe had loosened during the night…Blushing, she hastily retied the belt, got up and threw her arms around Taylor’s neck.
“Thank you, Taylor,” she whispered.
Unprepared for her enthusiasm, Taylor took a step back. But he recovered quickly, and a ribbon of happiness flowed through his heart. Embracing Katie, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re welcome, princess.” And then, reluctantly, he released her, wondering what it would be like to wake up every morning with Katie at his side….
Taylor excused himself and ambled back to the kitchen to finish packing the basket. When he had awakened this morning, it was with an overwhelming sense of happiness. The feeling was foreign to him; he’d never felt that way with Mary Ann. Was it Katie’s crazy Arabian Nights bedroom decor that did it? The birds singing right outside the window? The sun turning the room into a muted pastel fantasy? What? The more time he spent around Katie, the more his logic—which had always served him so faithfully—deserted him. More and more he was relying on his emotions, paying closer attention to them than he ever had before. He packed the last of their meal, closed the wicker basket and sighed deeply. It was Katie, and that irrepressible spirit of hers. She was a sorceress, weaving her spell, robbing him of the ability to think…teaching him to feel.
Shaking his head, Taylor picked up the basket and walked into the living room to wait for Katie. The phone was still off the hook; earlier, in the morning he had replaced the receiver only to take five calls in a row, all from reporters. Maybe he should put it back again. Grimacing, Taylor thought about how the journalists would continue to hound Katie. He wasn’t proud of his colleagues at this moment….
“Taylor?”
He started at the sound of Katie’s voice, then turned. His heart pounded at the sight of her. She was dressed in a body-fitting, lime-green top and a bright yellow skirt that almost touched her ankles. On her feet were delicate white sandals. She looked like lemon and lime: refreshing, beautiful. Her hair was tied in a knot with yellow ribbon, a few tendrils escaping to frame her expressive face.
“Yes?” His voice was low.
She smiled. “Have you chosen a spot for our picnic?”
“Maud said you had a favorite glen up in the hills. Your…magic place?”
Katie’s smile broadened. “Wonderful! I’m glad I wore my swim suit,” she said, pointing to the lime-green top. Do you have one?”
He shook his head. “Maud didn’t mention swimming.”
Picking up a small, rainbow-colored canvas bag, she joined him. “Let’s stop at your place and get you some swim trunks, then.”
Taylor nodded and escorted her out of the apartment. Inwardly, he winced. He didn’t want Katie to see where he lived—not after he’d experienced her place. She had created a home. He lived in a silent skeleton of a house. When they arrived at the small pink stucco one-story on the outskirts of Rio Conchos, Taylor grew tense. Katie insisted on going in with him while he retrieved the swim trunks.
The look on her face told him everything. She stood in the center of the living room, stricken.
“Taylor, you haven’t even begun to unpack!”
“I haven’t had time,” he said, and disappeared into the bedroom.
Katie looked around. All the blinds were drawn, leaving the room dark. Just like a Scorpio’s nest, she decided. The house was nearly empty and the highly polished wood floors were in serious need of mopping. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she resolved to say nothing more about his house. The fact that he refused to meet her eyes told her much. He was uncomfortable about allowing her into his private world. Typical Scorpio, she decided. Well, she’d fix him! A plan began to form in her mind….
It was a lovely day. Taylor guided the car effortlessly through the California hills, now covered with verdant grass. The rains had been kind this year. By mid-May, the lack of water would turn these hills yellow, and they would remain so until December or January. At last Katie pointed to a small dirt road that passed between two rolling hills. Carefully he drove up through the winding lane that took them deeper into an isolated area, devoid of homes or people.
“There!” she said excitedly, pointing to his left. “Can you see the glen?”
Taylor’s spirits rose at the lilt of her voice. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and right now he needed a lift: He still felt embarrassed that Katie had seen his house. Ahead he could see where the road ended at the base of the hill. There was a small lake, shaped like an oval and shaded by scrub oak. Braking the car to a halt at the crest of the hill, Taylor was stunned. The hills that surrounded the glen were carpeted with thousands of golden California poppies and wind poppies. The breeze moved through them like an invisible hand, causing golden and scarlet heads to bow briefly.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Katie breathed, taking in the panorama of unrelenting color.
Taylor could find no words; he was deluged with feeling. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he admitted finally, easing his Toyota Camry down the hill.
“You’re used to steel, glass and concrete, right?”
He grinned. “I’m a city boy, Katie. Does it show?”
“I think you have a country soul.”
“Uh-oh, is that a virus?”
Her laughter filled the car. “And what if it was, Taylor Grant? What’s wrong with being touched by beauty? Of flowers, a shimmering blue lake, the green of oak trees?”
Nothing, he thought, an ache filling him. Taylor stopped the car beneath a stand of oak and got out. He was seeing yet another facet of this compelling woman, he realized—Katie in the outdoors. The hills vibrated with the golds and reds. A pair of noisy blue jays added to the sound of bees humming and the sigh of a whispery breeze.
The sun had reached its zenith by the time they spread the black-and-white-checkered blanket beneath a towering oak. Taylor watched in amazement as Katie bloomed before his eyes; it was as if she were taking sustenance from the glen. But wasn’t he, too? He felt the tension drain from him as he lay on his side and sipped at a plastic cup of tart rosé wine.
“I think you like my glen,” Katie teased, coming to sit by him, her yellow skirt looking very feminine as it swirled about her slender legs.
“I do feel relaxed. But I think it’s the wine.”
Katie grinned. “Why can’t you accept that it’s the energy here?”
Taylor reached over, caressing her bare arm, aware of her softness and his need for her. “No, it’s you,” he told her seriously. And then he glanced around at the poppies. “The rest is only window dressing, princess.”
Sobering, Katie met his deep gray eyes. She saw that his mouth no longer drew in at the corners and that the perpetual V no longer hovered between his brows. Taylor was relaxed. Impulsively she picked a poppy and held it gently in her hands.
“Did you know that Victorian ladies used poppies to test the affections of their lovers?”
He smiled. “How?”
“A woman would place a petal in the palm
of one hand and then clap her hands together. If there was a loud slap, it meant her man still loved her. If there was no sound, then she knew he loved someone else.”
“And at this time of year, I suppose every woman in California comes up here to find a poppy and test her man?”
Katie plucked the petals from her poppy and showered him with them; golden rain, falling softly. “I doubt it.” She shrugged, still as enthralled by the beauty that surrounded them as she’d been the moment they arrived. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “All flowers, plants and trees have stories—we have only to listen,” she whispered.
“And you know most of those stories, don’t you?” She’d make such a wonderful mother, Taylor thought for the second time in as many days. And for a shattering split second, he dreamed that she carried his child. The fantasy left him feeling naked and vulnerable. Yet as he studied Katie’s profile, the fantasy seemed to grow in strength, until he could scarcely bear the welter of feeling roused in him.
“Some, not all,” she corrected, getting to her feet. She held out her hand. “Come, let’s take a walk first before we eat.”
He took her small hand, allowing himself to be swayed by her eagerness, and accepted that today was a gift. Tomorrow reality would once again claim them, but he wouldn’t let it intrude now. No, he resolved to allow Katie’s joy to infect him, lift him above the quagmire of his daily life….
She pointed out other plants or flowers as they walked. Near the stream that wound through the hills on its way to the lake below were patches of blue lupine, their blue-violet flowers waving on slender stalks. There were also cream cups, which looked exactly like their name. And then Katie pointed out the scarlet columbine.
Taylor leaned down, plucking one of these exquisite scarlet flowers. “Here,” he said, and placed the flower behind her ear. “Now you look like Persephone.”
Katie’s eyes lit with amusement. “Persephone? The Greek goddess who was kidnapped by dark, brooding Pluto?”
A Chance Encounter Page 10
